


Come Morning Light

by okaynextcrisis



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Babyfic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:24:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2116659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaynextcrisis/pseuds/okaynextcrisis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU.  My take on the New Caprica babyfic.  Unrepentantly sappy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beverlycrusher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beverlycrusher/gifts).



Cottle lit a cigarette. "So who's the lucky guy?"

Laura dropped her head in her hands and moaned.

* * *

 _"_ _I was never around for Zak and Lee," Bill said, his voice a deep rumble in Laura's ear. "I wasn't the father I should have been. I regret that."_

_She snuggled closer to him on the sandbags—it was getting chilly, after all, she told herself. She watched Bill exhale a plume of smoke above them before holding the cigarette out to her. She took it, the darkness making their hands clumsy…unless it was something else that made their fingers brush._

_"_ _What about you?" he prompted. "Regrets?"_

_She wasn't sure which one of them had brought it up…at this point, everything was a little hazy. Regrets, Laura mused…_

_"_ _I would have liked to have been a mother," she said, surprising herself with her candor. Laura couldn't remember the last time she'd let herself even think about it, much less mention it out loud._

 _"_ _Why didn't you?" Bill asked. "Have children, I mean."_

 _"_ _I like unavailable men," she said, her tone very dry._

_Bill snorted._

_"_ _Really," he added, his voice growing serious. "I'd like to know."_

_She shrugged, exhaling with meditative slowness. "After my father and my sisters died…I just couldn't imagine ever risking that again," she said finally. "That kind of loss…I didn't think I could survive it."_

_"_ _It's a good thing you held out and waited for the destruction of mankind," Bill said sardonically._

_Laura laughed. "You can't win them all," she said, choosing to be philosophical._

_Bill's lips brushed the top of her head. "Is it too late?" he asked delicately._

_"_ _Oh…for me?" she asked, distracted by the feel of his mouth in her hair. "No. Not technically. But it might as well be. What am I going to do, have a baby_ now _?"_

 _"_ _Why not?" Bill asked._

_Laura put out the cigarette. "I think you've had enough."_

_""_ _I'm perfectly serious," Bill insisted. "'Live the life that we've got while we've got it,' right? If you want to have a child, you should just go ahead and do it."_

_Laura giggled. "What, spontaneously?"_

_"_ _I'll have a baby with you," Bill said, his tone easy, nonchalant, as though they were discussing her dinner plans._

 _"_ _That's not exactly what I meant when I said we should start having babies," Laura pointed out, snuggling closer to Bill, her lips just brushing his neck._

 _"_ _Well, we can't let you have a child with just anyone," he said. "Besides…" He shifted on the sandbags, one arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer, one hand brushing lazily through her hair. "If you're going to be down here in your cabin, what's going to be the fun of staying up in space?"_

_Laura let herself imagine it: her cabin in the mountains, Bill beside her, their baby in her arms._

_She wondered if their child would have his blue eyes._

_"_ _I'm not having a baby in a tent," she said out loud._

 _"_ _Of course not," Bill grinned. "I'm going to build you that cabin, remember?"_

 _"_ _But…"_

 _But she'd almost died,_ should  _have died. Should have died during the attacks, should have died of her cancer, should have died a thousand times in between._

 _"_ _It might not happen right away," she said instead._

 _"_ _It's true, we would probably have to practice a lot," Bill deadpanned._

_She became aware of his hand grazing her hip, ever so gently._

_Slowly, Laura smiled. "I suppose I could live with that," she said._

_"_ _I'll make you a deal," he said, his lips brushing hers. "You have the baby, and I'll build the cabin."_

* * *

"You're at about eight weeks," Cottle continued.

* * *

_They hadn't seen each other in weeks when Bill showed up at the school, just before class was letting out for the day._

_Bill kept a straight face in front of Maya. "Can you manage this?" he asked seriously. "Ms. Roslin and I have an important project to work on."_

_Later, curled up in her tent, Bill showed her the plans he'd drawn for their cabin._

_"_ _Bill," Laura said, giving voice to the thought that had been nagging at her in the months since Founder's Day, "if this doesn't—if I don't—"_

_He kissed her forehead. "Then I'll have you all to myself," he whispered._

* * *

"Which puts the timing…."

* * *

 _"_ _Just two more weeks," Bill promised, packing up his things to return to Galactica, one last time. "Two more weeks, to get Lee and Helo settled into command, and then I'll be back here for good."_

 _"_ _I probably won't even notice you're gone," Laura teased._

_The Cylons came the next day._

* * *

"Right before the Cylons arrived," Laura mumbled in response. She raised her head. " _Now_  what am I going to do?"

"Take your vitamins and try to behave yourself," Cottle advised. "When the Admiral comes back, I don't want him kicking my ass."


	2. Chapter 2

Every night, Laura told the baby a story.

_I met your father at the end of the world._

Alone in her tent, nestled under the blankets, her hand on her belly, Laura talked to their child.

_Someday, he'll come back for us, and everything will be okay._

When she began this ritual, her abdomen was flat under her hand, her pregnancy still more of an idea to her than a physical reality.

It was a relief; the idea itself was hard enough to adjust to. For all her talk with Bill, Laura had never quite believed in a future that included her carrying a child. Now here she was, finally pregnant, and under the worst circumstances she could imagine. If the Cylons found out, if they decided to use her pregnancy to pry information on the resistance from her—

She didn't want to have to find out which she valued more: the survival of the human race…or the survival of her child.

Fortunately, Laura found, concealing her pregnancy was easy. No one, apparently, had noticed that the Admiral and the former President had been indulging in their own fantasy of a fresh start, or if they had, no one suspected that a middle-aged schoolteacher -turned-President -turned-schoolteacher could be hiding a new life under her loose clothes. Laura kept to herself, and if she ever looked sick, or tired, or afraid…

Well. They were under occupation. They were all sick, and tired, and afraid.

* * *

_Your father's name is William Adama. He is an Admiral in the Colonial Fleet. He is the best man I have ever known._

One night, as she whispered those words, her hand pressed against her rounding abdomen, she felt the barest hint of fluttering under her fingertips.

The baby was moving.  _Her_  baby was moving.

Laura laughed out loud, even as tears streamed down her face.

She was having a baby.

She was alone, she was stuck on this miserable planet, she was in danger every day of her life—

And she was having a baby.

Wherever Bill was, even if she never saw him again, even if he'd decided, long ago, not to return—she was grateful to him for this.

* * *

_We met on a ship called the Galactica. Someday, you'll see it, too._

Even after long days, when her students kept her on her feet all day and her work with the resistance kept her busy late into the night, Laura never missed a bedtime story.

She curled up on her cot—on her side, the pressure of her belly made lying on her back uncomfortable now—and murmured aloud, fingers caressing her slowly swelling abdomen, trying to reach out to the tiny being growing inside of her.

All around her was death.

This was life.

* * *

_I told him we needed to start having babies._

Laura never exactly relaxed—that would have been foolish—but as the weeks slipped by and her belly grew, as the kicking and turning and fluttering of her baby became frequent, then commonplace, and then reassuring, she began to allow herself to imagine carrying this child to term, giving birth, being a mother.

It was a good feeling.

She never exactly made an announcement—with the Cylons watching her every move, it would have been stupid to attract any extra attention—but by her seventh month, as her burgeoning belly strained against even the roomiest sweaters she could find, she'd given up on denials and obfuscations.

One night, after he'd emerged from two months in detention, she caught Saul Tigh's one eye staring openly at her midsection. She realized that she'd slipped, and had been absently rubbing her belly, trying to soothe the frantic movement within. The baby was anxious, she figured. She didn't blame it; these resistance meetings made  _her_  nervous, too.

"Is it his?" Tigh asked gruffly.

Why bother to hide it? She nodded.

"Did he know?"

Wordlessly, Laura shook her head.

Tigh didn't ask any more questions.

The next day, wherever she went, Laura noticed three of Tigh's men close by.

* * *

_I met your father at the end of the world._

These days, the movements of the baby kept her up late into the night, and with the Cylons cracking down and her due date fast approaching, Laura didn't sleep so well anymore, anyway.

_Someday, he'll come back for us, and everything will be okay._

Instead, she sat up, and reviewed resistance intelligence, and held her belly, and prayed.

* * *

Tigh's people were there when the men in the masks came to take her away.

Two of them died trying to buy her an escape.

One of them showed up out on the ridge, with reinforcements, just as the Cylons were about to open fire.

After the shooting was over, after he'd cut the ties around her wrists, he told her the news, almost tripping over the words in excitement:  _Adama's coming back._

_Someday, he'll come back for us, and everything will be okay._

The night before the escape, the bulge of her belly hard and tight under her palm, she began the story one last time.


	3. Chapter 3

_"_ _Lee's doing so well with the Pegasus," he told Laura, as they lay curled up in her tent. "Helo, too. They'll be ready soon, to take over, give the old man a break."_

_"_ _Mmm," Laura agreed drowsily._

_"_ _You think_ you'll _be ready soon?" he asked, his hand tracing lazy circles on her back. "To have me around full-time?"_

_When Laura didn't answer, he thought she'd fallen asleep._

_He kissed her hair, burying his face in the red-gold strands. He didn't know if she'd be pregnant by then. He didn't even know if it was possible anymore._

_All he knew was, this was the best idea he'd ever had in his life._

_"_ _Talk to me when you've started my cabin," Laura mumbled into his chest._

_He smiled and settled his arms more firmly around her._

_He couldn't imagine ever being without her again._

* * *

Nobody could tell him where Laura was.

She'd made it off the planet, he knew that, but nobody could seem to place her. He stood on the hanger deck, greeting refugees to his ship, casting his eyes around for a familiar face.

And then he caught a flash of bright red hair.

_Thank the Gods._

He was across the hanger deck before he was even aware he was moving. He stretched out his hand to help her down from the raptor—and then she turned.

For months, he'd pictured this moment, held it like a talisman against his dread; that she wouldn't survive the escape, that he'd already lost her on the planet, that she'd been killed during the Cylon invasion. Now here she was, at last, perfectly safe and whole; dust in her hair, mud caked on her boots…

…and her hands cradling her swollen belly.

His breath caught.

A hush fell over the crowd.

Laura took his outstretched hand, her lips quirking into a wry smile. "It's good to see you, too."

* * *

_Sometimes, nestled on her tiny cot, listening to the sound of her slow inhales and exhales, Bill let himself imagine a life with Laura._

_He imagined nights and mornings, breakfasts and dinners, laughter and tears and stupid fights over the laundry._

_He imagined the cautious hope between them, the trip to Cottle, the positive test results._

_He imagined watching her belly expand, as their child grew inside of her._

_He imagined feeling their child's movements for the first time._

_He imagined nights like these, with Laura's head on the pillow beside his and his hand resting on the rounded expanse of her abdomen._

_He imagined holding their child for the first time._

_He imagined a family._

* * *

Back in his quarters—he'd dared to hope it would be  _their_ quarters—he still didn't know what to say.

He should have kept her with him on Galactica.

But she'd insisted on staying on the planet, where she was needed.

He should have known the Cylons would come back.

She'd known the risks, too.

He should never have left her behind. He should have stayed and fought.

But then they would all be dead.

This child, included.

_Their_ child, included.

"Laura," he said, helpless to know how to make this better. "Laura, I can't even begin-"

"Bill," she interrupted wearily, "I have survived an occupation. I have faced a firing squad. I have not had a good night's sleep in nine months. If you're not kissing me in the next five seconds, I'm holding a press conference and telling everybody  _Zarek's_  the father."

He took her face in his hands. "I have never been happier to see anything in my life than you climbing out of that raptor today."

"Happy to see  _me_ , or happy to see both of us?" Laura asked, her voice low, her hand curling protectively over her belly.

"All of you," Bill whispered, tilting her face upwards and meeting her lips with his. He reached out to caress the swell of her stomach, to feel for himself the life that he and Laura had created.

In all these months, he had never once imagined that Laura might have been pregnant, that he might have left her there on that planet facing not just an occupation, but the prospect of raising their child alone. She must have resented him for that, he thought. She could very well never forgive him for it.

But still…even so…he couldn't help but be happy that it had had happened,  _however_  it had happened. He and Laura were having a baby. Nothing could be more natural, more important, more  _right_  than this.

Something dripped onto his perfectly polished boot.

Laura broke away. "This is frakkin' unbelievable," she muttered.

Bill's eyes widened. "Are you—was that—"

"My water breaking all over your shoes?" Laura asked, resignation on her face. "I'm afraid it was."

They weren't just having a baby, he realized. They were having a baby  _today_.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time they arrived in sickbay and got her settled on a bed, Laura was clearly uncomfortable.

"When did the contractions start?" Cottle asked, fixing her with his sternest glare.

"I'm not sure," Laura demurred.

Cottle lifted one eyebrow.

Laura sighed. "This morning," she admitted.

"You've been having contractions  _all day_?" Bill echoed, shame washing over him. Laura had had to flee an occupation while in labor with their child. He might never forgive himself for that.

"Just little ones," she said shortly.

Bill made a silent vow that when the baby woke up in the night, it would be his turn to get up, for at least the first two years.

Cottle grunted. "Well, that's over now," he said, examining the monitor. "You're starting the hard part now."

"Can't you give her something for the pain?" Bill demanded.

"We ran out months ago," Cottle informed him. "If I have to, I can knock her out with morpha and deliver the baby myself, but it'll be better for her if I don't."

Bill squeezed Laura's hand in sympathy.

Cottle fixed him with a look. "I take it you'll be staying?"

"Of course," Bill replied.

"Don't be ridiculous," Laura answered at the same time. "We have a fleet to put back together, remember?"

"That can wait," Bill insisted. "We have a baby to have, remember?"

Laura shook her head. "That's no excuse for—" she broke off, her grip on his hand momentarily tightening.

"Breathe," Bill coached.

"Cottle wasn't kidding," Laura muttered, when the pain had passed.

Bill brushed her bangs back from her forehead. "Lee's running the CIC," he went on in a gentler tone. "I'm not going anywhere."

Laura didn't look convinced, but neither did she let go of his hand. "Zarek's stepping down," she said finally. "He'll put my name before the Quorum. I'll have the Presidency back within the week."

"That's a relief," Bill said dryly. "I was afraid I was going to have to  _persuade_  him."

Laura smiled—and then her face twisted in pain.

"Breathe," Bill reminded her. "This will all be over soon."

"I'm too old for this," Laura muttered.

"You're doing just fine," Bill soothed. "Just keep breathing, and focus on the beautiful baby we're going to have—" A thought occurred to him. "Is it a boy or a girl? Do we—do  _you_  know?"

Laura smiled at the ridiculousness of the situation. "I don't know, no," she replied. "I wanted to be surprised."

"It's certainly a surprise," Bill agreed.

"I've had a while longer to get used to the idea," Laura pointed out dryly. She paused. "Of course, I didn't plan on having a baby  _and_  reassuming the Presidency…but I suppose I'll manage. Maybe having a crying baby on my lap will help shorten some of those Quorum meetings."

_I'll_ manage, Bill noted, a shiver of unease trickling down his spine. " _We'll_  manage," he corrected gently. "You'll be staying on Galactica, won't you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. Laura didn't need any extra pressure on her right now.

Laura paused. "I know this isn't what either of us had in mind—" Her hand tightened on his.

"You're doing so well," Bill murmured. "Almost there…"

"—and I'm sure you must want time, and  _space_ , to take this in…" Her head fell back against the pillow, her eyes squeezing shut.

Bill went cold. She couldn't be serious. "I don't need time," he said. " _Or_  space. I've already had plenty. I've spent six months out here, trying to figure out a way to get you back, hoping against hope that you'd still be alive when I got there. I don't want to push you, and I defer to your decision, but if it were up to me, I'd be bringing you and the baby home with me and never letting either one of you out of my sight ever again."

Laura's eyes were still closed. "Bill—"

"I know you must feel like I abandoned you," he continued, his voice quiet. " _I_  feel like I abandoned you. But it wasn't—it wasn't an easy decision, Laura. All I've thought about, all these months, was you, and that frakking planet, and how to get you back—"

Laura gasped aloud. "Sweet lords of Kobol, this is why they invented drugs," she murmured, her fingers tightening on his. Her head arched backwards, the muscles on her throat tightening.

"Laura?" Bill asked, alarmed in spite of himself. "You have to keep breathing—"

"I'm breathing," Laura muttered.

Bill had thought he'd known helplessness when the Cylons had come back, when he'd had to leave his people behind and pray that they'd still be there when he returned.

This was nearly as bad.

"Laura, what can I do?" he asked, holding tight to her hand. "Just tell me what I can do—"

"Just keep talking," Laura whispered. "Keep talking."

Bill swallowed. The pain on her face frightened him. "I'm right here," he murmured, brushing her hair back from her face. "Right here. You're going to get through this. I promise."

A moment later, her grip on his hand eased, just a fraction. "Bill—after the baby's born—"

"You don't have to think about any of that right now," he said, trying to soothe her. "I'll do whatever you want. I'll stay, I'll go, I'll appoint half the crew of Galactica as your private babysitters…you won't be alone in this, Laura. Not for a minute."

Laura raised her head. "I was going to say—" she panted through the pain, "—that I was giving you up until exactly the moment this baby is born—to get it together—and be happy about it. But it's nice to know—o _h_ ," she gasped, biting down on her lip to stifle her moan.

"Scream all you want," Cottle advised, pushing aside the curtain and closing it behind him. "This is sickbay. People scream here all the time."

"I'm the President," Laura argued between clenched teeth. " _Frak_ ," she hissed.

"Much more Presidential," Cottle muttered. "Now, let's see where we're at."

While Cottle bent to examine Laura, Bill brought his hands to her belly, rubbing slow circles, trying to distract her. "I can't wait to meet this baby," he whispered.

"I can't wait for this to be over," Laura bit out. " _Frak_."

"You're both in luck," Cottle announced. "This is going fast."

"I'll try to reign in my gratitude," Laura muttered, a moan escaping her.

Bill watched her as the next contraction hit, as she bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood. "Stay with me," he said, gripping her hand as tightly as he could. "Just breathe—"

" _Frak_ ," Laura gasped out, the pressure of her fingers hard enough to bruise. "I think—"

"Ishay!" Cottle barked over his shoulder. "The President's ready to push."


	5. Chapter 5

When they placed her daughter in her arms, Laura didn't cry.

Bill, sitting beside her on the bed, his arm around her shoulders, had wept openly, his tears soaking into the tangle of her hair.

"Look what we did," Laura whispered, looking into their child's tiny face, the baby's blue eyes peering back at her, wide and curious.

"What  _you_  did," Bill whispered back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Laura, she's  _beautiful_."

The baby opened her mouth, and Laura gasped in wonder at the sight. All these months,  _this_  is what she'd been carrying inside of her?

She wasn't sure how long they'd been sitting here; time had stopped having any meaning for her. All she could think about was this beautiful little girl in her arms, with her tiny perfect eyelashes and her tiny perfect fingernails.

"Laura," Bill whispered.

The baby batted one miniature fist; Laura couldn't tear her eyes away. "Mmm?"

"I know this is isn't your cabin in the mountains," he said. "And I know that I have a lot to make up for. But…we could be a family, Laura. If you give me a chance—"

There was a cough from the other side of the curtain.

"Can I—is this a bad time?"

"Speaking of family," Bill muttered.

Very gently, Laura touched her daughter's cheek. "That's your big brother," she whispered to the baby. "I don't think he was expecting you, either."

"Come in," Bill called, resignation coloring his voice.

Lee was still in his flight suit, his hair still mussed from his helmet. "I heard—on the flight deck—I thought—" He broke off, shaking his head.

Laura watched Lee's eyes go to her on the bed, then to the baby in her arms, then to his father's arm around her shoulders.

Color rose in Lee's cheeks. "Oh," he managed.

Laura decided to take pity on him. She was feeling generous, after all.

She smiled. "Thanks for the rescue," she said. "None of us would be here without you."

Lee Adama, former commander of the Pegasus, shifted his feet, like a little boy in the principal's office. He cleared his throat. "That didn't come out right," he admitted. "What I meant was—"

"Lee," Laura offered, "would you like to hold your sister?"

A smile broke free on Lee's tired face, lighting up his blue eyes. Her baby's eyes, Laura realized.

She loved them both the more for it.

"I have a sister?" Lee asked, his voice cracking, ever so slightly. He came closer, gingerly easing himself down onto the very edge of her bed. Very, very, gently, Laura transferred the bundle in her arms to Lee's.

Lee stared down into the baby's face. The baby stared solemnly back. "She's beautiful," Lee whispered.

No matter what ever happened between them, Laura knew that she would always love Lee Adama for this moment.

" _I_  haven't even gotten to hold her yet," Bill muttered.

"Well, you did leave me marooned on that planet for nine months," Laura pointed out.

A muscle twitched in Bill's jaw. "Laura…" he began.

She laughed, gently. "Not funny yet?"

"Never, so long as we live," Bill replied, passing a weary hand over his forehead.

"Does she have a name yet?" Lee asked.

Bill looked at Laura, waiting, she guessed, to hear what she had decided on. She had thought about names, of course; played with a hundred combinations in her head, flirted with a few…but on this day, in this moment, Laura knew.

"Aurora," she said.

Bill smiled. "Goddess of the new dawn," he whispered. "That she is."

"Aurora Adama," Lee said, trying the name out. "I like it."

Bill coughed and shot Lee a warning look.

"Aurora…Adama-Roslin?" Lee guessed, knowing he'd misstepped but oblivious as to why. "Aurora Roslin-Adama?"

Bill's face was very still. Laura decided to take pity on him, too.

She reached out, brushing his cheek, her thumb smoothing the deep creases in his face. "Adama sounds good to me."

There were things to be said, Laura knew, conversations to be had. A serious discussion of their relationship was long overdue, as was a thorough hashing out of responsibilities—towards the baby, towards the fleet, towards each other—not to mention a definitive talk on sleeping arrangements—

Then Bill was kissing her, and she realized that they didn't have to say anything, after all.

* * *

_I met your father at the end of the world._

"Rory awake again?" Bill whispered, coming up behind her and peering over her shoulder.

Aurora was the name on the birth certificate, but the ink had barely had time to dry before Kara Thrace had shown up in sickbay, tossed a smug smirk at Bill, and demanded to meet her new baby sister—and immediately christened the infant 'Rory.' By the time Kara had left, even Bill was using it instead of her full name.

Laura hadn't minded. The name suited her.

"Just barely," Laura whispered back, her eyes still on her daughter's face, on her perfect peachy skin, on the red fuzz sticking up on her head, on her sleepy blue eyes, just drifting shut.

They'd brought a crib in here, to what had been Bill's quarters, nestling it in between their desks, where Rory would always be within reach. Laura wasn't sure what they'd do when their daughter got older...if they were still on this ship by then. In spite of everything that had happened, Laura still believed—more strongly than ever, now—that they were going to find Earth, make their home there.

Stranger things had happened.

_Your father's name is William Adama. He is an Admiral in the Colonial Fleet. He is the best man I have ever known._

Bill had asked her to marry him the night of the exodus, Rory fast asleep in Laura's arms, sickbay finally hushed and quiet around them. Once Laura had smothered her giggles—with their child cradled between them, the formality had seemed ridiculous—she'd kissed him, gently, and told him that becoming a mother and assuming the Presidency in the same week was about all the change she could handle. Bill had agreed, and then kept asking her anyway: before leaving sickbay, as she was moving into his quarters, on their first night at home, together as a family.

Laura found that she wasn't averse to the idea…once things calmed down a little.

Whenever that might be.

_We met on a ship called the Galactica. Someday, you'll see it, too._

Three days after Rory's birth, Laura was sworn in. Zarek had offered to hold onto the Presidency a little longer, give her a little more time…but Laura barely trusted him as it was, and anyway, it was time for her step back into her place, lead her people.

There was work to be done.

_I told him we needed to start having babies._

The fleet had adjusted to the idea of the President and the Admiral having a baby together, more quickly than Laura would have believed possible. Maybe after the exodus, she figured, everybody was just too tired to fight.

Or maybe it was just nice to believe in something happy, for a change.

_I met your father at the end of the world._

Bill's arms encircled her waist. "What are you telling her?" he whispered in her ear.

Laura smiled. "A bedtime story," she murmured. "Her favorite."

Bill kissed her hair. "Do I get to hear?"

Gently, Laura eased the baby down into her crib, and then turned back to Bill, wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's a long story," she whispered. "But it has a happy ending."

Bill pulled her closer, gently leading her back towards their bed. "I can't wait to hear it."

_Now we're all back together, and everything's going to be okay._

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Bill and Laura belong to Ron Moore; title belongs to Taylor Swift and the Civil Wars.


End file.
